


Just a Diamond in the Rough

by butterflybrigade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny's cooking, Blood Drinking, F/M, Homelessness, Hope reborn, Loss of hope, Mystery OFC, Past Abuse, Referencing drugs, Slow Build, Slums of New York, Streets of New York, Vampire Benny, tags will change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflybrigade/pseuds/butterflybrigade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brylee Tanner has been living on the streets of New York for 4 months, and has to wait it out for 8 more months until she turns 18 and won't be forced back into the Lost Children's Home (LCH). She is on the run from police as well as gang recruiters and drug dealers. Not to mention it will be winter soon, and she is less than prepared for how she is going to survive.</p><p>Haunted by her past and terrified for her future, she has no idea what to do. That is, until a friend of her's gives the name of a guy who will buy blood at an incredible price.</p><p>Brylee will learn that there are really monsters out there that go bump in the night, but not all of them are as dangerous as one would think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epilogue

You know, it really wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Me living on the streets I mean. It’s a dog eat dog world out there I guess, but I really didn’t think my life could get anymore crazy than it already was. It was my own fault for tempting fate. It just seemed like everywhere I went I attracted all sorts of trouble, and that’s why I tried to keep to myself. I didn’t want anyone near me to get hurt, but most of all, I didn’t want anyone near enough to hurt _me_.

That was probably the main reason I left- or would you rather I say ran away- from the system. I did everything they told me that I had to do to get adopted, but I realized at age thirteen that no one was ever going to want me. I was too old, couples only wanted to adopt babies not misfit teens. Once I accepted this fact, I’d like to say things got a little easier but it didn’t.

Then I reverted to plan B to get out of the system. Be incredibly smart and be noticed by colleges that could get me out of New York. It almost worked too… except that the other students noticed me before the teachers did. Now I could handle a bit of bullying, I had to grow thick skin to protect myself from the bigger kids at the Lost Children’s Home, but when death threats came I got a little intimidated. They said I thought I was better than them and that if they don’t have a chance to get out of here, then neither should I.

So once again I was cornered back into solitude. Trapped by my circumstances, like I had been since age five. I was sixteen when I knew I had to have a plan C, because a year later they would put me in the older section of the LCH. I would be in more danger than ever if I made it there. I had heard stories from older kids about that place, how it was practically run by the kids who dealt drugs. And the… harassment that goes on there. I couldn’t let that happen to me. So on the night of my seventeenth birthday, I ran away.

All I had was the clothes on my back, a crappy vintage Swiss army backpack with holes in it, a water bottle, and five dollars to my name. And there I was, thinking all I had to do was live on the streets of New York till I turned eighteen and I was a legal adult. I had yet to find out things were more complicated than that.

I would learn that there is more than the monsters I called drug dealers and gangs out lurking in the darkness, but that real creatures of the night existed. The kind that you check underneath your bed for, the kind that are fabled to drink blood, and have scary teeth and claws. I would learn that the only person I could trust was one of these monsters.

My name is Brylee Tanner. And this is my story.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda has a slow build, but I promise, there WILL be supernatural elements. I hope you enjoy the characters :)

** The summer **

 

I had done it. I had _really_ done it. I had escaped the LCH and was beginning my journey to freedom. A grin spread across my face as I crossed the street surrounded by a mass amount of people. I was ecstatic! I felt like Annie when she escaped Ms. Hannigan. Needless to say, I began humming “The Sun Will come out”.

It was warm, and all I needed to wear was my long sleeved gray shirt and jeans. My hoodie and trench coat were packed away in the Swiss army bag I got at a thrift store a while back. “ _This isn’t so bad”_ I thought “ _The whole ‘Homeless’ thing.”_ I honestly couldn’t think of a time where I felt more liberated. I was walking to the beat of my own drum, and I was jammin’!

I was snapped out of the trance when I almost bumped into a police officer. My heart almost stopped and I had to consciously remind myself to put one foot in front of the other. Did he see my face? Did he recognize me? Panic started to flow, but I reassured myself that I had only ran away this morning so they wouldn’t have sent a missing child report yet.

Maybe I shouldn’t walk on main. Best to lay low in the back alleys for a few months at least I thought with a somber tone. My senses took in the cacophony of the busy people, the smell of car exhaust, and the huge T.V screens on the buildings. It would be a while until I could show my face in Times Square again.

 

*~*~*~*~*~

 

It had been two weeks since I ran away. Things were… a little tougher than I pictured them to be. I tried to stay positive, though. I found a very small hobo community that I began to immigrate into. They didn’t say much, and that was expected since I was a newcomer. Newcomers brought trouble, and I was ignored until I was proven as unthreatening to their life style.

However, hunger was beginning to be a problem. I was down to two bucks which could buy me a hotdog, but I was saving it until I hit rock bottom. What would I do once I ran out of the money? I had to find a way to get food.

So, with a bit of navigating I found a few local restaurants near where hobo camp was and tried to dumpster dive. I was careful though, I knew it would be better to starve than to get food borne illness with no way to heal myself if I got sick. Most of the restaurants threw out the stuff with an expired shelf life, so I just snatched that up when there weren’t any other fellow hobos from the group.

I began to mold into my new life, knowing that I could make my own decisions really helped me sleep at night. Sure I might be poverty stricken, but I was free. So you could imagine my despair when my past confronted me while I stood around a burning trash with my silent friends.

“Well well, what do we have here? Haven’t seen you around, you new?” A man in his early twenties inquired as he walked around the burning trash bin towards me. He wore a ratty scarf, even though it nights were still pretty warm yet. I cast my glance away and merely nodded. “Name’s Chip and… wait a minute… do I know you?”

With shock, I looked up instantly. The man blended right in with the rest of the homeless, he had dirty shaggy blonde hair and his clothes were just as tattered as anyone else. The one thing that set him apart was his devious brown eyes. And then sadly, I recognized him.

“Charlie? Charlie Parkins?” I asked, and his eyes widened for a split second but then went back to being mischievous. The change was so quick I almost didn’t catch it. He sported a grin, and took my arm to guide me away from the others. I let him, knowing that he wouldn’t harm me.

 “Brylee?”

“Yeah.”

“Dammit Kid, it’s been a while.” He smiled and pulled me in for a hug. I hugged back out of courtesy, but my heart was already beginning to grow heavy with this encounter. “So what are you doing here?”

“Um… just getting my footing, you know? Looking for a job.” I lied. His eyes narrowed and he grinned as he looked me up and down. I looked him dead in the eye, praying he couldn’t see through my act. I knew it was wishful thinking.

“Now just a sec, from what I remember you were five years younger than me, right? I’m only 22, so that means you’re still 17. What are _you_ doing on the streets?”

A cold sweat began to form, and I swallowed. Charlie was the best liar back at LCH, which also meant he could spot a one a mile away. I was completely screwed. Out of paranoia, I pulled his taller frame closer into a back alley farther away from everyone else. I couldn’t risk any of them knowing I was a minor, otherwise they would never trust me.

“Charlie, I-“

“It’s Chip.” He corrected firmly “I know you were the only person who I let call me Charlie, but here, on the streets, it’s Chip. Names have power back here.” He stated more gently. I nodded in understanding.

“Well, Chip… I had to run away. I was going to be sent to the older section of LCH, and I just couldn’t.” I practically whispered. Worry was overcoming me, so I took his bigger hand in both my small ones. “Please… you can’t tell the police. You can’t send me back.” I pleaded.

Now it was his turn to look shocked. Then confusion and hurt.

“You of all people should know that I would _never_ force someone to go back to that hell hole.” He muttered with hidden pain. It made me feel guilty for thinking he would send me back, because I knew too well what happened to him there. “In my opinion, you were smart to get out while you could. I was dumb enough to think I could go through with it.”

I let go of his hand and looked down, knowing that what he went through haunts him to this day. I hated to be the one that brought up his painful memories.

“So what are you doing here Char…-Chip?” I changed the subject “I hadn’t heard from you, I thought you got out of here like you said you would.”

“Funny how plans change, am I right Miss Planner?” he teased, referring back to when I told him how I would get out of the system when I was little. I laughed back.

“Yeah. I mean, come on though.” I smiled “Are you a recruiter or what? Stalking the back alleys of New York.”

I got my answer when he didn’t laugh back at my jest. Recruiters were the ones in gangs that went around looking for fresh meat to add to their groups. Power in numbers, and a lot of people were forced to be in their organized crimes or have the consequence of being targeted. Realization took me.

“Oh.” I stated unjudgmentally.

“Like I said Brylee, plans change.” He looked away, but kept talking “But don’t worry, I won’t give any new updates on potentials in this area to Boss.”

“Thanks. If you don’t mind me asking, what group?”

He just kept his hands in his pockets with his head turned the other direction and shared an intimidating side glance with me. The kind that said _you_ really _don’t want to know_. So I shrugged and let it go. All the sudden, he got a sad look on his face. Kind of concerned.

“What’s that for?” I called him out. He sighed.

“I just didn’t think I would see you here is all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t kid yourself. You don’t belong here, you never have. You’re too good for a place like this.” He spread his long arms out motioning to the alley or even the city.

“No. No I’m not. I am no better than anyone else.” I said determinedly. He just put his hands up in comical surrender.

“Alright, alright.” He looked at me and paused. He looked the same way I felt, like he wanted to stay and enjoy our company but he knew that it would only be painful for both of us. “Well, Brylee, I have to go. Other rounds I need to check out. But I stop here once a week, so I’ll see you again?”

I nodded.

“Good. And you’re getting around alright? Finding food?”

“Yeah. I’m taking care of myself.”

“Just like I taught ya.” He winked good-naturedly.

“Just like you taught me.” I smiled back at the man who I respected like a brother.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*

 

I saw Chip once a week after that, just like he said, but none of our conversations went as deep as they did before. We kept to our casual chit chat and we were both considerably alright with that. Eventually an unspoken rule was made between the two of us that we would protect ourselves from each other. I didn’t know what he was into now (whether it be with gangs or what), and I didn’t care to. All I did to him was bring him reminders of pain from his past. We had too much history and we both knew it. So we kept our polite distances.

Survival was getting more difficult as summer began to fade into fall. Nights became longer and colder, and soon I would have to start looking for warmer clothes. I thought about getting a cardboard sign and ask for money, but I didn’t want to risk being caught by the police.

One thing that was going my way at least was that I was accepted into the group of hobos I was with. There were about six of us total. Jude was like the silent leader, and her opinion was highly regarded. She was an old thin black woman that kind of just stared at you, but then you realized that’s just how she showed she acknowledged you. There was Ricky, he was high all the time so he was nice. No one ever had any quarrels with Ricky, he was like the hippy that everyone tolerated. There was Sugar-Pie who we occasionally saw during the day; Sugar-Pie… worked nights if you catch my drift. She was quiet but strong, only really talked to Jude. There was Padre, he was a short and stout pastor or something and from what I gathered he used the church’s funds to gamble and was excommunicated. He’s kind of the grumpy drunk of the group, but he’s not too bad. And finally, there was Crazy Joe. We’re not really sure if Joe is his real name, but it’s all we got since he’s not very lucid and won’t answer any of our questions. He rambles a lot on the most random things and can be a bit of a ruckus sometimes, but Padre takes care of him.

That was all of us. Jude gave me a few tips on some easy access places I could go to shower and clean up. Ricky gave me hints on where I could find better sources of food; he only named two places, but I’m sure he knows where to get munchies in the entire vicinity, but I was just grateful for the info he did give me. I’m pretty sure Padre just liked to make fun of me, a distraction from his own demons was what I was and that was okay for me. I’ve heard worse.

By the end of the summer, we all knew each other pretty well and I secretly named our group the Misfits. I clung to my vain optimism as if I were hanging from a cliff, but it was all I had. Without it, I could only see myself spiral into self-pity and I wouldn’t allow that to happen. There was always someone who had it worse than I did, and I forced myself to be grateful for what I did have. I was convinced I needed to look on the bright side to get through the year.

Little did I know that what I was going through now was a walk in the park compared to what was going to happen next.

****


	3. Chapter 3

** The fall **

****

It was October now. I had to reason myself that I’d only been on the streets for four months, but gosh did it feel like eternity. There was a shooting in September, the Band of Misfits and I got caught in the crossfire. We scattered like mice and tried to find barriers against the flying bullets, and most of us did. All except Ricky. He was too slow and got shot in the thigh. His screams were etched into my mind as the gunfire sounded. We couldn’t do anything for him while the bullets flew except pray that no more shots got him. Blood was everywhere once we could finally retrieve him, and Jude and Padre took him to a home nearby to get medical help. Thankfully I wasn’t asked to go into public, so I stayed with Crazy Joe.

Being so close to death was traumatizing, but I knew the risks I had to take when I ran away. I was beginning to see behind my gilded thoughts of freedom and saw the brutal reality of my situation. There was no poetic analogy here, no beautiful thoughts I could come up with. I nearly _died_ , and that was the simple truth of the matter.

I couldn’t shower anymore at the places Jude told me; it was too damn cold that the left over water would freeze instead of dry off of me. I was dirty all the time, and I tried to expel the thought of humiliation but it was no use. I was becoming the homeless person I was, and that fact stung a bit as it soaked in.

I found some thin gloves to wear, along with a stocking cap that I could hid my dirty, long black hair in. This didn’t help against the bitter cold around midnight, but it was still a million times better than going without. Food got more difficult to find, and I learned to ignore how I was constantly hungry. It was terrifying to realize that nothing was promised to you. The thought process was “Take what you can because you won’t know what will happen later”. I woke up every day knowing that I might not get to eat today, or worse, I might not even make it to the end of the day. I tried my very best not to think about the last part.

One night when Chip was making rounds he pulled me aside to talk. My body felt more like a shell than anything, my head seemed like it was always fuzzy from lack of nutrients. It didn’t bother me unless I moved, but I didn’t let it show how difficult it was to just be pulled aside for private conversation.

“Brylee, you look terrible. How you doing?”

“’m fine.” I mumbled, and he rolled his eyes at me.

“How much’ve you been eating lately? You’re broke, aren’t you?”

“What do you think?” it was my turn to be irritated “Of course I’m broke!” I willed myself to calm down before continuing. “Look, it just… hard. But I’ll be fine, I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to make it through the winter.” I confessed.

“I see. Well, have you ever thought about joining…” my glare stopped him from finishing his sentence. “Just hear me out, okay? If you just joined a gang you’d be able to get at least more food than you’re getting here.” He reasoned. I shook my head.

“I don’t do drugs Chip. Gangs do nothing but bring you down and make you do things you would never think you’d do. And don’t you dare try telling me I’m wrong.” I finished.

“Yes, Brylee, you’re right. I have done things I’m not proud of, I admit that. But I’m _surviving._ It’s tough out here, you gotta do what you gotta do.”

I shook my head. “Not drugs. I won’t have anything to do with it. You know they are the reason why I was thrown into LCH in the first place, and I refuse to go along with life’s sick joke and revert to the thing that put me here in the first place.”

 “Look, I just want to see that you’re making it alright. You’ll never make it through winter if you don’t do something to get money.” Chip looked down and pursed his lips, as if deep in thought. Almost like he was holding something back. “I think I can help you out. I know this guy-“

“Woah, wait.” I put my hands up. “I’m not going to… sell myself, if that’s what you were going to say.”

“No, just listen okay? This is going to sound very crazy, but you just have to role with me, kay?” I nodded despite my confusion. “So this guy, he kind of has… a _condition_. I’ve been helping him out for about a year, but I’m leaving so I have to find a replacement for me.”

“What kind of condition, Chip?”

“Well he…” Chip hesitated. “He has a liquid diet. As in… he drinks blood.”

I gasped in horror and put a hand over my mouth as I stepped back. What on earth? What the hell was Chip into?! Was this guy he was talking about some sort of psychopath?

“Brylee, wait. I can explain.”

“Chip, are you crazy?! I am praying that you’re just kidding. Tell me that was just a sick joke.” His silence made my empty stomach feel even more knotted.

“Here, let me show you.” He began to remove the brown scarf he wore all the time, and it was weird to see him with it finally off. He then unbuttoned his shirt ever so slightly. “I’m not lying, see?” he revealed his neck and shoulder to me.

I couldn’t see very well in the dark of night, so I stepped closer and put my hand against his exposed skin and felt crescent shaped scar marks that traced his neck and shoulder.

“What the hell?! He _bites_ …?!” I was disgusted by what I was hearing. The first part was bad, but then to hear that it wasn’t filling up a medical blood bag was even worse.

“Brylee, I totally understand you freaking out to this, but it really isn’t as bad as you think. He is really nice, it’s quick, and he pays a shit ton. Enough that you could stock up for winter.”

I could not believe my ears. Chip sounded like he’d been brainwashed or something.

“Chip, I’m going to go back the fire. Thanks for the offer, but I am not going to sell my blood to some psychopath. I’ll find a different way to get through the winter.” I stated nervously.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but understanding as he buttoned his shirt back up and wrapped his scarf back around his scarred neck. “I get it. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

I tried very hard to do just that.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The next time I would see Chip was Halloween, only he wasn’t alone and he wasn’t looking for me.

There were a bunch of big guys covered with tattoos and symbols that surrounded our Misfit Camp. They were holding an array of crowbars or other metal bludgeoning tools to show they meant business. Chip was the only one unarmed, and he slightly hid behind the bigger burly men. We tried to back away or scatter but all our exits were closed off by the men. I pulled my hood over my face to not draw attention to myself, while Jude, Sugar-Pie, Padre, Crazy Joe, and Ricky did something of the same nature to not be noticed.

The leader was this broad shouldered black guy with dreadlocks that went to his shoulder blades, and his voice boomed through the alley when he spoke.

“Trick or Treat, street scum!” he greeted. “How’s everyone’s holiday?” he boomed sarcastically.

I stole a glance at Chip through my hood, and his face was neutral but his eyes betrayed him and portrayed his guilt.

“Look sir, we don’t want any trouble.” Jude spoke up.

“Well perfect! This will make my job a lot easier.” He smiled deviously. “See here’s the thing. The streets of New York are not as safe as they used to be, know what I’m sayin’? So today is your lucky day, street rats! We are offering you, out of the kindness of our hearts, protection.”

Jude made eye contact with me as if to warn me what he meant, but I had no idea.

“Now, as you know, protection won’t be free. We demand a three hundred bucks a month betwixt the six of ya. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?” he tested.

“Sir…” Jude spoke up, and she got a hot glare from the leader. She forced herself to continue. “Sir, we can’t get that kind of money. We can’t even afford food, how will we be able to pay you and keep us alive?”

“That raises an excellent question.” He then hit her across the face with the metal pole he was holding and the sound of it hitting her made my skin crawl. I gasped and was about to run to her when I realized that it wouldn’t be a good idea. She fell to the ground and kept her head down as she touched her face. “See what happens when you don’t have protection? I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with something. Well, nice chatting with you, but we have more trick-or-treating to do.” He stepped over Jude’s crumpled body and exited out the alley way with the rest of the other goons. Chip didn’t even look at me when he passed.

Once they were gone, we ran to Jude to help her up, and I gave her my glove to wipe the nasty cut on her face. Sugar-Pie wrapped her arm around the older woman protectively while the rest of us huddled around

“Three hundred dollars a month. What are we going to do?” I asked.

“Well that fifty bucks for each of us. Well, sixty because I’m sure Crazy Joe knows how to make the big bucks.” Padre muttered. Crazy Joe just fell over and curled in a ball to prove Padre’s point.

“Well, all of us can beg, right?” Sugar-Pie offered. I flinched, but I don’t think anyone noticed.

“Ricky, you listening?” Jude asked.

“Y-yeah.” He straightened up.

“You gotta set aside sixty bucks, kay? Can’t use that sixty for drugs, ya hear?” Jude said in her leader voice. He nodded meekly.

“Wait a minute, so we have to carry around sixty bucks each till the end of the month? I don’t think so, I don’t want to get mugged.” Padre whined, but he had a point.

“Maybe we can hide it? Maybe, there’s a loose brick in the wall or something.” I stood up to go search the alley walls while Padre scoffed at me.

“What are we? Pirates?”

“Can it Padre, little one’s got a point.” Sugar-Pie defended.

All the sudden Crazy Joe yelled out ‘Pirates’ in delight and pointed at the ground. We all turned our attention to where he was and he had removed one of the bricks from the stone pavement with ease. I sat next to Crazy Joe and tried putting the block back in place and took it out again. It fit perfectly, we could hide our money here.

“This will work. Good job Crazy Joe.” I smiled.

“Pirates!”

So that night we all planned out where we were going to go in the city. Sugar-Pie was already working so she didn’t have to beg. I was terrified of having a run in with the police, but I tried convince myself no one would recognize me. I’d just be another kid on the street, and Jude said because I looked younger I would get more money. I just really hoped that this would work.

 

*~*~*~*~*~

 

I was sitting on the pavement with my back pack open as I held a sign saying “Anything will help”. It was a week before the goons would come a-knocking for our money, and I still had to get twenty more dollars. Scrounging up three hundred wasn’t as bad as we thought it was going to be, especially when we had the five of us working together. As of now, we weren’t really worried about how the funds would turn out.

I wrapped my dark green trench coat closer around me to protect me from the wind, but that was hard to do when I was out in the open. Seeing as how I was getting nowhere with the crowd today, I began to pack up my bag. A child’s laughter sounded through the crowd and I saw the cutest little boy being swept up into his dad’s arms. He giggled with delight as dad put him on his shoulders and the mother took a picture of the moment. They must have been tourists. I smiled at the sight as I stood and put the back pack on my shoulder.

“Miss? What is your name?” an accented New York voice asked me.

My heart stopped when I turned to see a man in a blue uniform and a police hat on. I gripped my back pack until my knuckles went white. I swallowed.

“D-did I do something wrong officer? I was just leaving. I don’t want to bother anyone.” I stuttered.

“What’s ya name, kid? Is this you?” he held my arm and pulled out a “Missing Person” picture of me.

I panicked.

I brought up my knee and jammed it in his stomach before I took off running.

Stupid decision! I know. My heart was racing now with adrenaline as I heard the officer scream after me. I ran deeper into the alley and made quick turns in case he was going to try and taze me. I made another right turn and my heart fell as I saw it was a dead end. A fence was blocking my way.

I took a running jump and climbed the metal fence, and I was halfway up when the policeman caught up with me.

“Stop!”

I kept going and my hand reached the top part, it felt like my body was on fire. Tingles swept through me entirely, and it hurt. I held on for dear life when I looked down and saw the officer was tazing the fence. I don’t know how I did it, but I willed myself up and flung my body over. I fell on my stomach and laid still as the wind was knocked out of me. I prayed I didn’t break anything.

Within a few seconds I stood up and turned to run the opposite direction from the policeman and he had no choice but to watch me leave.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“The Popo tailed you for pick-pocketing?!?! You stupid?!” Jude was berating me with the half-truth, half-lie I told her.

“I’m so sorry. I got away.” I apologized.

“Well you can’t go beg now, stupid child. They be lookin’ for you now.” She muttered in annoyance.

_Right._ Now _they’d be looking for me._

“I did get ten dollars today, so now I only need ten more to get sixty.” I offered.

“It’s alright. I already have seventy, it’ll cover you. Though I _was_ going to buy a hot meal…”

“I’m sorry Jude, I should have been more careful. I’ll pay you back.”

“Gimme your ten, I’ll put it in the brick.”

I handed over my ten in singles and quarters as she opened the stone in the ground. Suddenly she gasped, so low I could barely hear it, but it sent chills up my spine.

“What?”

“It… s’all gone.”

I looked over her shoulder and saw the empty hole, and I sank to my knees. Disbelief overwhelmed me. We had nearly three hundred dollars in there and it was gone. Just… gone. All our effort for almost an entire month was wasted.

“I… I thought you were here all day?”

“I left in the morning.” She breathed.

“Crazy Joe, where’s the pirate stash?” I tried to ask lightly.

“Pirates!”

“Yes, pirates. Where did the loot go?”

“More loot! Padre, getting more loot!”

Jude and I looked at each other in terror. Padre, the one with the gambling problem. We never thought we’d have to hide the money from each other.

So we waited till everyone else got back, all waiting in silence until the last of the Misfits was Padre. He came in like a dog with his tail between his legs as Jude yelled violently at him. He admitted to taking the money, but he thought he could double it. He ended up coming home empty handed. Words were said, and Sugar-Pie and Ricky had to pull Jude off Padre. All through this, I sat down with Crazy Joe’s head on my lap and covered his ears while he cried. Even though he looked like he could be in his thirties, his mental ability was really no more than a child’s. But I couldn’t pay attention to him despite his sobbing.

All I could think about was how we were going to come up with three hundred dollars in one week. Sugar-Pie said she could give a hundred, but that was all she had. Even with a third of the money taken off, we still needed way more money than we could make in a week. My thoughts began to drift toward what Chip told me. About the guy who paid a lot of money for… blood. The sudden urge to throw up passed as soon as it had come when I thought of how we would all be beat up if we didn’t have our monthly due.

My hand began to shake; Crazy Joe notice and he looked up at me concerned. I smiled down to reassure him I was fine. I saw how scared he was with just us bickering amongst ourselves, I could only imagine if someone tried to hurt this gentle soul. I needed to protect everyone from what might happen.

I needed to talk to Chip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benny is in the next Chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

“Brylee, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk. Do you have time?”

Chip slipped away from the goons he was with and followed me behind a dumpster where no one could see us. Luckily no one seemed to notice his lack of presence once he was gone.

“Brylee, you shouldn’t have come here.”

“I know…” I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to start the conversation. Chip huffed, irritated by the silence.

“What did you need to talk about? Spit it out.” He crossed his arms.

“You… um. You said something earlier to me about… a… guy.”

His eyebrows went from being scrunched together in annoyance to a relaxed neutral facial expression.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” He pushed.

“The guy who pays for… blood.” I swallowed nervously.

“I thought you weren’t interested.” He challenged.

“Well, like you said. Plans change.” I practically whispered back. I forced myself to endure the conversation, but I did not want to talk about selling blood. It was disgusting, and part of me still hoped that Chip was lying to me. A joke gone too far.

“I can contact him for you. He actually needs a donor this Friday.”

I shivered, and bit my lip. “H-how much does he pay?”

“About two or three hundred. I can give you a rundown of what will happen if you like?”

Like? I didn’t want to be in a situation where I had to know how a psychopath was going to take my blood. I nodded to Chip. I would rather know the gruesome details of what was going to go down rather than going in blind.

“He’s a really nice guy, don’t be afraid of him. He makes you a meal, lot of protein and stuff in it, and it is the best. He’ll ask you a few questions, and don’t sweat it, just answer honestly. Then, well…” Chip pointed to his neck and shrugged, while I suppressed a shudder. “And then he just patches you up, pays you and sends you on your way.” Chip said nonchalantly.

My stomach did flip flops just thinking about how carelessly he was talking about someone biting and taking his blood. It didn’t seem right at all. Speaking of what didn’t seem right, why was Chip using me as his replacement? Did something happen to him that he wasn’t telling me? What if I was just about to walk into my death?

“Chip, why aren’t _you_ still giving him blood? Why did you even tell me in the first place if it’s as harmless as you say it is?”

“I’ve moved up in the world. I don’t need his money anymore, I can take care of myself. I just thought that I would pass the baton onto someone who deserved the money.” He answered. “I told him I’d find someone else, someone he could trust.”

“And why on earth would you think of me to give up to some psychopath?”

“First of all, Brylee you’re the most trust worthy person I know. The reason I said you didn’t belong here was because kids who grew up like you did do not turn out okay. They are bitter and vindictive, but not you. You show compassion to the most unworthy of souls like myself.” He poured out. “And secondly, the guy is not a psychopath. He’s… just not… human. But he is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

I felt warmed by what Chip said about me, but the second he said the other guy wasn’t human I was cold again. What did he mean he wasn’t human? I opened my mouth to ask, but he cut me off right away.

“I have to go back, but before I leave, what made you change your mind?”

I squinted my eyes at him, but I realized it wasn’t his fault that the band of misfits and I had to pay the monthly pension. He wasn’t the gang leader, he was just a pawn. I sighed and looked back to him.

“Our three hundred dollars was stolen.”

He flinched, but tried to act like it didn’t happen. I looked away to spare him the humility of letting me see his face and the guilt that was on it. I simply repeated over in my head that it wasn’t Chip’s fault.

“Right, well, I’ll let you be on your way. Oh, and Brylee?” I turned to look at him. “You cannot tell _anyone_ where you will get the money from. No one can know that the guy does what he does, understand?” I nodded back. “Good. I’ll find you after I talk to him, and give you more information.”

“Okay.” I mumbled weakly.

I walked slowly out of Chip’s camp, but once I turned the corner I bolted like a wild horse. I ran through the cold November air, the wind stung my face, and my lungs burned from the sprint and the air that assaulted it. Finally I just couldn’t run anymore. Hot tears formed behind my eyes, and I felt my throat tighten like it was preparing for a huge sob. I wanted to punch something, then I wanted to curl in a ball and sleep forever. I took in an uneven breath and covered my mouth, I didn’t trust myself enough to not wail uncontrollably in this alley.

The tears spilled over and I just leaned against the brick building and let it happen. It felt like I had sold my soul in some unholy contract. Anger- a feeling I tried to rebuke completely- settled in. Chip was right. Why was I here? What did I ever do to deserve this punishment? It wasn’t my fault that my mother was in to drugs and scarred me both physically and mentally. It wasn’t my fault that no one wanted me!

I have tried everything to get out of here. I’ve been kind to people, but maybe that was just because I was naïve. I looked toward the heavens for even a morsel of guidance.

“Please…” the tears refused to stop flowing. “Please… what have I done? What have I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence without crying out loudly, so I covered my face and melted into the ground and stayed the night there.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was Friday, the day I had been dreading all week.

The paper that Chip gave me with the guy’s address was crumpled and damp from my clammy hands, but I could still read the writing. I wasn’t even there yet, and I was already starting to freak out. I forced myself to think nice thoughts as I put one foot in front of the other, while my mind was going on autopilot. One of the thoughts included that the Misfits wouldn’t be beaten up by the Goonie Gang (which was the lame name we all agreed to call them behind their back). Innocent Crazy Joe would be safe.

I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, but earlier I had a chat with Jude.

_“Jude, I don’t want you to worry about the monthly pension.”_

_“Yeah, because there’s nothing we can do about it.”_

_“No. Because I’m going to take care of it.”_

_“What? What do you mean child…?”_

_“Please just trust me. We will have three hundred by the end of the month.”_

She looked nervous and worried for me, but she didn’t push for more details. I wonder what she thought I was going to do. I had braved the cold today and took a shower in a women’s shelter, so I knew exactly what Jude thought I was going to do. I wasn’t going to sell me, just my blood. But of course, Chip had me promise not to tell anyone that.

 I was grateful that she didn’t demand answers, otherwise she might have made me question myself even more for going. Once I turned the corner, I saw the bar that Chip described to me. With shaking hands I pulled out the paper and double checked the address, and it was the same one. I had reached my destination, and I felt like I was going to vomit food that was nonexistent.

I gulped, and trudged forward. The name of the bar was Trailer Park, and the decorations seemed intentionally ghetto but the flamboyant colors were intriguing. Though it wasn’t the bar that I was going to, but the apartment that was located directly behind it. I made my way up to it, and came face to face with the door knocker.

It wasn’t too late to back out. I could run all the way back to camp, and I wouldn’t have to be here. I could say I got lost, or that I couldn’t read the address on the paper. I could-

Before I had realized what I had done, I had knocked the door three times.

There was silence, no movement whatsoever. That is, until I heard the footsteps making their way to the door. I wanted to hyperventilate, but right before the door opened, I took the deepest breath possible. I could do this. I could be strong.

A tall, burly man opened the door, and his blazing blue eyes were the first thing I noticed about him. He had a somewhat scruffy beard, which made him look very friendly. He wore a long sleeved, cotton shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and seemed to cling to his torso, while suspenders went over the shirt, hinting at the muscles underneath. He looked more like he should be cutting down trees than living in the busy streets of New York.

“You Brylee?” he smiled, and I couldn’t place his accent right away.

“Um, yeah.” I nodded, looking up at him.

“Pleasure to meet ya. I’m Benny.” He offered his hand.

I willed myself to do the same, and prayed he didn’t notice how much my hand was shook before it met his cold, but firm grasp. He opened the door for me to come in, and I knew that once I crossed the threshold, there was no turning back. _Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly_ the old nursery rhyme taunted me in the back of my mind. I did just that, and internally flinched when I heard the door close.

I walked forward, not really sure where he wanted me to go until I felt him lightly touch my shoulders and excuse himself to go in front of me. He let go before he could feel me shiver.

“Right through here.” He led the way past the living room and into the kitchen where I was hit with a wave of scents and spices.

Suddenly, my hunger was awakened by the exotic seasonings and I looked where the heavenly smell was coming from. My eyes rested on a pot on the stove with steam coming off.

“Hope you like Jambalaya.” He smiled back at me as he picked up a wooden spoon and continued to stir. His accent was more intriguing than I thought it would be, very back country southern.

“It smells really good.” I complimented, not really sure what else I could say. But I had to admit, with every breath of that delicious stew I could feel the knots of fear in my stomach begin to release.

“You can go ahead, make yourself at home.” He motioned to the chair at the kitchen table.

I saw a seat already prepared as I made my way over. It was considerably warmer than what I’d been used to, so I shrugged off my trench coat and hoodie and put it in the corner out of sight. I didn’t like losing the layers; I felt so naked and vulnerable without them, but I knew they would have to come off sooner or later. My head started to feel dizzy at the thought of why I would have needed to take them off, so I pulled out the chair and sat down before Benny could notice my hesitation. His southern accented voice brought me back into conversation.

“So how do you know Chip?” he asked, adding some spices into the pot. I sat squarely with my hands on my lap, and looked around to take in my surroundings.

“We um… we were in the foster system together.” I answered honestly.

“Oh, so are you in the gang with him too?”

“No.” I answered a little too quickly. “I mean, I just try to stay away from the crime.” I tried to recover from the abrupt answer before. I could feel my cheeks flush a bit.

“So I take you haven’t done any drugs either.” He said while putting on oven mitts and pulling out cornbread.

“Never.” I answered, as I looked at anything but him.

“And no STIs or STDs?”

My eyes widened and heart skipped a beat as my face burned with embarrassment. I must not have answered quick enough because when I glanced upward he looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh.

“Sorry, personal question. I just need to know, otherwise the blood would make me sick.”

“Sorry, um no. No diseases… I’m not…” I struggled to finish the sentence and I felt like a complete idiot. It was a simple enough question.

He chuckled lowly, his baritone voice rumbled softly. “It s’all right, I understand.” He scooped up the Jambalaya into a bowl and placed a hot cornbread muffin onto a plate and put it in front of me. My mouth watered at the sight and I was close enough to smell intricate flavorings that I couldn’t smell before. I brought my gaze up and met those light, but intense eyes again and smiled tentatively in appreciation.

“Thanks.”

He watched me taste my first mouthful, and it was nothing like I ever had before. The uniqueness of the dish took me off guard and I unintentionally sighed out in enjoyment.

“Like it?” he smiled approvingly.

I could only nod, my mouth was full with my second bite. I swallowed and decided it would be cool if I used actual words this time.

“It’s incredible.” I confessed. “How did you learn to cook like this?”

He started cleaning up dishes and began washing them in the sink. “Granma taught me all her cooking secrets when I grew up on the Bayou.”

_That’s the accent; Cajun_ I thought triumphantly as I ate some of the cornbread. It warmed my empty stomach, and I didn’t realize I had hunger pain until it was gone from the presence of food. The bowl’s contents disappeared in what felt like moments, but I couldn’t force myself to take another bite. I was content with one bowl.

Benny cleared the table before I noticed. He brought a chair over with one arm and sat down adjacent to me and put out a shot glass and filled it with whiskey. He pushed it in my direction. The warm sluggishness of the meal started to melt away as I remembered what I was here for.

“Oh, thanks but I… I don’t drink.” I apologized. His gaze was unwavering.

“It will help take the edge off.” He noticed me staring at it with uncertainty. “And I didn’t do anything to it. Trust me, if I were to drug you it would have been in dinner.”

Okay, that didn’t make me feel any better. The fullness of the meal wasn’t as rejuvenating anymore. Now it just felt like there were rocks in my stomach, but I knew it was only my own nervousness. With a bout of courage and a shaking hand, I took the shot and swallowed it in one gulp. It burned like no other, and I coughed into my hand. The urge to wretch was undeniable, but I held my own.

“That’s it.” I shook when I heard his rumbling voice behind me, and awfully clumsy when he turned my chair around and helped me out of it.

I fumbled a bit when he caged me between himself and the table, and all the sudden I was sitting on the top of the wood. Being so close to him made me feel very small and weak compared to his large arms and bulky build. I bit my lip in attempt to stop myself from breathing so hard. His fingers held the hem of my gray shirt and tugged a little. I noticed how his nails almost looked sharp and pointed, but I dismissed it as the lighting.

“Are you wearing a tank top underneath?” he asked, looking into my eyes, his face a little too close to mine.

“What?”

“So you don’t get blood on this shirt.”

“Um… I don’t mind this shirt. It’s not that fancy.” I avoided his question.

“Thing is, I’m guessing this is your only shirt. And what are your friends gonna say when they see a few stains?” he raised an eyebrow.

I swallowed. I never let anyone see me without a long sleeved shirt, and there’s a reason for it. Benny didn’t seem like he would budge on this one, so I nodded.

“Yeah I’m wearing something.” I gave him the green light to help take off the gray shirt. He was gentle when he removed it, slow and making sure not to rush, contrary to what I thought he was going to do. He tossed the gray shirt over to my other clothes, but then he saw my tattooed skin he quietly released a shocked breath.

I knew what he saw because I had to look at the gruesome occult like marks my mother gave me when I was five every day of my life.  My dark purple tank top covered the black ink that was on my torso, but there were still plenty of other marks that trailed down my arms and back. They were ugly, and you could tell that it was put on me unwillingly judging by the lack of technique the markings had.

“What is this?” he asked as his eyes traced over my body, and I felt like a specimen being examined. He pulled the tank top strap to the side a bit to get a better view of one of the tattoos near my shoulder and I felt the scrape of his sharp nails. I looked away and shook my head, hoping he got the message that I didn’t want to talk about it.

Thankfully he did, and pulled his attention away from the marks.

“Sorry.” He apologized.

I was too deep in my thoughts to notice him pull my dark hair away from my shoulder, but I was pulled back into reality when I felt his lips and stubble trail across my neck and I inhaled sharply. His arms were on both my sides and he leaned in closer, and I had no choice but to grab his shoulders to stop myself from tipping backwards. I could feel my skin turn to goosebumps underneath his caress, and my heart sped up so fast I thought I might faint.

The veracity of the situation was almost too much to handle, and it didn’t help when I felt his tongue begin to trace the vein on my neck and I suppressed a whimper. I closed my eyes and focused on why I had to do this, but even that didn’t ease my racing heart.

“It’s gonna hurt a little, but it will pass.” He whispered… no, growled into my skin and I trembled.

I hesitated, but fear overcame me and I opened my mouth. I could still stop this. “W-wait… mmph!” razor sharp needles dug into my neck. As an automatic response I tried to shrink away from the pain but Benny just tightened his hold on me and moved closer. His teeth were far too sharp to be human… maybe Chip was telling the truth.

I could feel the pulling of his tongue for my blood, and that blood leaving me. It felt wrong… unhuman. The sensation of my blood being gulped down in a steady rhythm was putting me in shock, and I couldn’t stop shaking. All the sudden I felt his arm wrap around my back, and his hand rest on my shoulder blade as he pushed his chest closer to mine.

 I gripped his shirt tight as he pushed even closer and I was starting to fall backwards. His arm was still steadying me as he laid me on my back, his lips and teeth never leaving my wound. My hands moved from his shoulders to his waist where there was more room for me to hold on while he pushed me down. It was unnerving to be pinned down like this, but for some reason this position felt more secure. Or maybe I mistook the secureness as the inability to move.

“Ah-ahh…” a pained moan escaped me as he deepened the wound with his tongue.

He removed his arm from underneath my back, but didn’t leave me. Instead his hand trailed down my waist to my hip where he traced circles with his thumb. He was careful to not nick my skin with his sharp nails which I now knew he had because his other hand was absentmindedly carving lines into the wooden table. Benny only slightly tilted his head for a better angle, but even that movement seemed to bring on another wave of pain. My whole body tensed, and I closed my eyes.

The shot of whiskey took hold and made my head feel fuzzy and I was grateful for it. It helped me ignore the sound of wet slurps and almost inaudible moans that filled the silent room as Benny drank. He growled lowly into the bite and the vibration resonated into my skin, and I let out a surprised gasp I didn’t know I was holding. A noise like that couldn’t possibly exist coming from a human. Almost immediately he took a deep breath, his muscled chest leaning into mine even more so. Finally, I understood what he was trying to tell me. I wasn’t breathing.

I took a tentative breath, like it was my first time ever doing so and the cool air moved through me and into my lungs. I opened my eyes and tried focusing only on that and after a while I already began to feel better. It was almost like a distraction from his bite, despite the pain slowly disappearing. It was the strangest thing. I could still feel the pressure from his teeth, but there were no longer jolts of pain sprinting through me. It would have been a relief except for the fact that the rest of my body was going numb too.

I struggled to keep my eyes open as my muscles sluggishly began to relax and slacken their tense hold. It was like falling asleep while your mind was wide awake to watch the process happen. What was going on?  I tried with much difficulty to put the pieces together in my mind, but it felt like an eternity to do even that. Then I finally wondered, how long has it been? It could have been minute or hours for all I knew. Was this numbness a side effect for blood loss?

I wanted to panic, to let the full realization take over but I couldn’t bring myself to do that with as little energy as I had. My arms felt like lead, and they slowly fell to my side as I became no longer able to hold on to Benny’s shirt. And I just laid there, still fully capable of feeling his mouth still pull and suck at the cut on my neck.

“Ughh….” I groaned unintentionally, it felt like my entire body was hit with a heavy dose of sedative. A low purring sound was the only reply I got.

I don’t know how I stayed conscious for as long as I did, but eventually, Benny let go. For a few seconds, I didn’t realize he did. The only reason I noticed was because I no longer felt sucking at the bite, but instead I felt his tongue lapping up the waning trickle. I was delightfully light headed and pretty out of it when he released his hold on me.

“You still there, Brylee?” his southern drawl invaded my mind and I had to put the words back together again to understand what he was saying. I opened my heavy eyelids for a moment to see that he was standing over me with his hands resting on my knees. Benny’s mouth was covered in red blood, as well as his beard. I could barely see his concerned blue eyes because they were almost completely dilated, though I couldn’t muster up the reason why.

“Uh-huhn.” I mumbled, unable to do much more than that.

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get the first aid kit.” He said before disappearing from my line of vision. I’ll be honest when I say I didn’t process a single thing he said.

My first reaction as I became more awake was to get off the table, simple enough task, shouldn’t be that hard. Well I was proved wrong when I tried to move my arms and they were as solid and unmoving as stone. Still, I kept trying until I maneuvered myself on my side and indolently sat up. My head was spinning like a merry-go-round, and I closed my eyes to steady myself. When the feeling passed and I opened my eyes again, I saw drips of red liquid on the mahogany wood. My confusion didn’t allow me to see that it was my own blood until another drop fell and made a bead on the table. And then I abruptly felt sick to my stomach.

Everything went dark for a second as I felt myself topple forward, but I was shocked out of it when I felt warm arms grab me and set me upright.

“Woah there, careful. Told you not to move.” He says while I straighten myself until I can sit up without him holding me. He gently tilts my head to the side and begins to clean the wound with an alcohol wipe. I flinch slightly at the sting.

“Why ‘m I s-dizzy?” my words slurred so much I didn’t think he would understand me. He kept cleaning the wound, and pulled out a cotton cloth bandage to put over it.

“Well part of it is because I took a pint and a half, but mostly it’s the side effect of the bite.” He said nonchalantly.

What did that even mean?

I decided not to pursue it. Besides, I could already begin to feel my strength coming back to me as well as coherent thoughts. That was it. I did it. I just gave blood to… a monster. It sounded much more dramatic than it actually was. You would think that something like that would be out of this world or like a dark fantasy or something, but getting patched up by the one who gave you the bite made it seem so… real. That’s what made me a little nervous. How could I be okay with this? It was unconventional… it was wrong, wasn’t it?

“You doing okay?” Benny interrupted my internal monologue.

“Uh… yeah. It’s starting to wear off.” I flexed my hand to test the control I had over my body again. He noticed the gesture and nodded in agreement as he got out the medical tape. It felt like I had a buzz almost from the loss of blood, but I could feel my energy returning to me. I was alright with the silence, really I was, so I had no idea what compelled me to open my mouth and ask a question. There was no way I could have stopped myself even if I tried.

“So… you’re not human, are you.”

He paused and looked me in the eye with his baby-blues back intact as if he wondered if I wanted him to answer the anti-question. I just stared back neutrally to cover the fact that I didn’t mean to say anything. He shrugged and went back to putting the tape on my skin.

“Nope.”

“You’re a… uhm-“

“Vampire?” he finished and grinned at my bashfulness.

“Yeah…” I weakly responded and looked down. I didn’t know what to do with my hands so I just started twiddling my thumbs like an idiot. Of course, a mental slap over the head was in order as well for even attempting small talk.

“There, done.” Benny smoothed out the bandage delicately, and moved to get my shirt from my pile. Before I could even try to take care of it myself, he put the fabric over my head and helped pull my arms through. I tried not to make eye contact, so I just started fussing over the way the shirt settled on me. Then he pulled out a dark blue handkerchief and tied it around my neck so that it covered the bandage. “Now how’re you feeling? Because you can stay here and sleep it off if you need to…”

“Uh… thanks but, I have to get back. A-and I feel fine.”

“Alright, fair enough. Here’s your compensation.” He pulled out a bunch of fifty dollar bills neatly folded and bound by a rubber band. “I would put that somewhere safe. Oh, and some painkillers for the road.” He handed me a mini bottle of Advil, and I smiled back good naturedly.

He moved and offered his hand to help me get down from the table. I couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t cold anymore, but actually quite warm. Not only that, but his claw-like nails were gone too and now they were just as normal as anyone else. Interesting. I put my layers back on, and tucked the money into the zipper pocket of my hoodie. It was probably the safest place I had, and I knew I couldn’t get pick pocketed if I put my over coat on. I put my backpack on and when I turned to leave Benny was standing by the door waiting for me.

I thought I would just walk through but he blocked the doorway with his lumberjack arm. “Brylee, I never want you to feel like you’re forced to do anything here. Now, I’ll understand if you decide to not come back. If you don’t, I’d ask that you not tell anyone about me. But if you do, I promise, it gets easier.” He stared down at me with sincerity, something I didn’t expect.

Needless to say, I was a bit taken aback. I hadn’t really thought about it, having this be a regular thing. I nodded back to him to show I understood, and he dropped his arm out of my way and let me pass. I could tell he watched me all the way until I turned the corner.

I would have to think about my options once I had time to settle down, but right now, I just needed to get back to the Misfits. Who knew when the Goonie Gang was going to collect. I had the money, and we would be fine this month, but what about the others? What if we weren’t able to make any money in the winter months when everyone is too busy saving money for presents? I could probably be our reliable source of income, _and_ be able to clothe and feed myself through winter. But… that would mean that my visits to Benny would be a regular thing. I’m not really sure how I feel about that.

Like I said… I’ll have to think about it.


End file.
